Nothing Left to Lose
by pyromaniac325
Summary: A desert filled with Cranks, some mad scientists, and a giant maze filled with grievers. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**OK hey everybody! This is my first fanfic so bear with me if it's horrible. Let me clear a few things up first. This is pre-maze runner. The world is still destroyed and the Flare is raging. The maze is being built currently and the Creators are searching for Candidates from around the world to use in their experiments. Their search takes them to a small town in Mexico…**

"Rosalina!" I heard an all too familiar voice call my name over the crowd in the flea market. I grinned, turning to find Jorge smirking, holding a book up to shade his eyes." What are doing out at this hour, _chica_? The sun is getting dangerously high."

"You worry too much, Jorge." I checked my watch. He was right. Especially here, so near the equator, we couldn't afford to be out in the middle of the day. I followed Jorge through the market, pulling my long auburn hair up into a ponytail in a feeble attempt to keep the back of my neck cool as the sun neared its zenith.

We ducked into the cool interior of a house, one that now belonged to Jorge, his older sister, and me. The previous owner had been taken away when the "government" had found he had contracted the Flare. The Flare. The name still sent shivers down my spine. I had seen too many people slowly slip past the Gone for it not to. People I was close to. I had watched my own mother chew off her own fingers, had watched her attack my little sister. That had been it for me. I couldn't watch her slow, painful decent into madness. I had run out of that madhouse as fast as I could, and had ended up here. Jorge had found me, sniveling and crying, and had taken me in. That was where-

"Rose!" Jorge snapped his fingers in front of my face, snapping me out of my memories. "You need to stop thinking. Can't be good for you."

"You need to stop thinking, _hermano_. Before you get all three of us killed." Felicia, Jorge's older sister, walked in the room. "Now please tell me one of you two _idiotas_ found something edible out there."

"Well, I hope this counts." Jorge shook a canvas bag, and I heard the clink of metal against metal.

"What is it?" I asked, snatching the bag away from him. Peering inside, I saw at least a dozen metal cans. I pulled one out, looking at the label.

It was blue, with yellow writing in Spanish that claimed it was some sort of meat. Sausage, by the looks of it. "How much of this crap is there?"

Jorge shrugged. "As much as I could snag before the storeowner realized it was gone."

Felicia laughed. "At least it's better than the dirt we've been eating for the past week."

Jorge snagged it back. "If you two ladies are done gawking at it, I'll cook it up."

"Does anyone else find it funny that the guy is the only one who can cook?" Felicia laughed, catching Jorge in a headlock.

"At least my cooking doesn't give people food poisoning, _hermana_." Jorge said, twisting his way out and sauntering over to the stove. He turned the dial to turn it on. It clicked, but no fire came out. Nothing happened.

"The power finally went down this morning," Felicia explained, leaning against the counter. "They think the power plants finally gave out."

"With no one to run them, it was only a matter of time." I chipped in.

"It was a really long time, though. I would've thought they'd go boom weeks ago." Jorge said, ginning, rummaging around in the drawers for something.

I shook my head, smiling. "Boom? I don't think anything would go boom. The reactors would rust up, sure. Nothing would explode, though. Not even nuclear reactors would default to explosions and they're the most volatile."

"You're too smart for your own good, _chica._ I didn't understand half of that."

"Which is why you aren't in charge. Then everything would go boom." I grinned at him as he gave up on his search through the drawers, grabbing the knife he wore in his belt and stabbing it into the top of the can. He sawed around the outside, then took off the top. Grabbing three spoons, he set the can on the counter. "Lunch is served."

"It's a masterpiece," I laughed, taking a spoon and fishing out the packed-in sausage. I looked at it for a moment, wondering if it tasted as horrible as it looked. Desperately hoping not, I shoved the spoon in my mouth. After not having eaten properly in nearly a week, the stuff tasted like heaven. The three of us devoured it, laughing and making fun of each other like a real family.

"I'm going up to the roof!" I called through the house, heading out the back door. Dully, I heard Felicia called back as I shut the door behind me. Dusk had finally fallen, the temperature dropping nearly thirty degrees. I clambered up a pile of boxes and other junk we had piled back here as a makeshift staircase. One of my favorite things to do was just to sit out here, alone with my thoughts.

I watched the people as they walked back and forth down the streets, each minding their own business. No one stuck their nose into others' affairs here. Not anymore, anyway. Everyone had their own problems. The Flare had taken over everyone's life, even those like us, who didn't have it. We had heard about safe houses, places you could go and be promised that you would never catch it, but somehow I didn't believe that. I had thought my home was safe. I hadn't known until too late how wrong I was.

Besides, getting there would be a problem. We were nowhere near the worst part of the Scorch, but traveling across even this stretch of desert to the north would be a certain death sentence. The lightning storms alone were enough to make me stay here, to risk the Flare. With my luck, I'd be the first thing to get hit. I smiled to myself dryly. My luck. I had the worst luck of anyone I had ever met.

Suddenly something caught my eye. A boy was running, and a rather cute one at that. I stood up to get a better view, watching as he sprinted through the crowds, looking over his shoulder every couple steps. Searching the crowd behind him, I saw that he was being followed by four men in long white coats, gas masks over their faces. He turned a corner, disappearing from sight. The men following increased their pace so they wouldn't lose him.

Curiosity winning out over common sense, I dropped to the ground, jumping off the building and rolling to my feet. I sprinted after the boy and the men following him, elbowing my way through the crowd to do so. I ran into the alley to find the boy, doubled over, hands on his knees, breathing hard. He looked up as I stopped a few feet in front of him.

His eyes were a light greenish-blue, contrasting with the dark skin around them. His black hair was cropped short, and was plastered to his head with sweat. He was wearing a loose tan t-shirt and shorts. He leaned against the wall, his breathing beginning to return to normal. "They gone?" He asked, not taking his eyes off me.

"Who?"

"You haven't seen 'em? Creepy dudes with white coats and weirdo masks."

"Oh. They're coming this way. Almost here," As I said it, the kid stood up, putting a hand on the wall to support himself, and gestured with his head towards the mouth of the alley. I turned around, and sure enough, there they were. The four of them fanned out, preventing us from running the way we came. From the looks on their faces, they weren't afraid to cause a little collateral damage with a fifteen-year-old girl. These people had come before, and every time they killed whatever was in their way. In this case, me. There was only one option. Out the other side of the alley.

"Follow me!" I yelled, grabbing the kid's arm and pulling him after me. We shot out of the other side of the alley, weaving through the crowds. After a minute, I let go of his arm, confident that he would follow me. He did. I took right turn, cutting through a strip between two buildings, and emerged on the other side, not daring to slow down. I sprinted up the street, turning right and left, trying to shake the men that were no doubt following us.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of running, I turned into an alley that dead-ended, leaning against the back wall and closing my eyes, trying to catch my breath. "No way they followed us that long." I panted. I sank greatfully to the ground. The kid sat too, his face covered in sweat.

The sun had sunk nearly all the way below the horizon, swathing the alley in shadow. "Thanks for that," The kid panted, smiling. "I'd probably be dead, if you hadn't come along. Some luck for me, eh?"

I smiled. "Yeah. Why do they want you anyway?"

"Some experiment. They want me to be a part of it, I don't. I'm now a _liability_." He spat the word. "They want me dead. I would tell you to leave so they don't hurt you, but… I think we lost them."

"I hope we lost them." I gestured to the brick wall behind us, "otherwise we have absolutely nowhere to go."

He shrugged. "It'll take them hours to find us. We'll be gone by then."

"We'll?"

"I assumed you were alone, and we could travel together. Safety in numbers. You are not, then?"

I shook my head. "No. There are two others. My family. If you have nowhere else to go, you could stay for a while…"

He considered, then finally shook his own head. "No. I would not want to impose. Besides, I am only passing through here. I am heading north as quickly as I can."

"North is nothing but desert for miles. There could be something beyond that, but crossing the desert… Not to mention they round up all the Cranks around here and throw them in the abandoned cities just north of here. Look, stay here for the night, _amigo_. If you still feel you need to, you can leave in the morning."

"I'd be much obliged. Thank you." He pushed himself to his feet, reaching out a hand to help me up. I took it, dusting my pants off.

We turned to leave, and as I took a step forward, the four men in white coats fanned across the mouth of the alley. "Oh, _mierda_," I muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

They came closer, each one pulling a small pistol from somewhere in their oversize coats. The closest one cocked his gun, pointing it directly at the kid. One right behind him did the same, pointing his gun at me. I couldn't believe it. They had followed us. It looked like my luck had run out.

I backed up until my back hit the brick wall. My breathing sped up and icy fear crawled down my spine. The kid stood defiantly, a smirk beginning to creep onto his face.

"You come with us, or we eliminate you," The one in the front said casually, as if he was discussing the weather. "Those are your only options."

The kid tossed his head back and laughed. "You need me. You can't eliminate me. You know that as well as I do."

"On the contrary. You are expendable. Not to mention easily replaceable."

The kid looked down, then threw himself at the man in the white coat. They both fell to the ground. For a moment, it looked like the kid might have been able to overpower the man. Then one of his companions came up and pulled the trigger on his pistol. I screamed as the kid fell to the side, dead. Blood spread quickly from the wound in his head, nearly black in the scant light. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block everything out. I was nearly hyperventilating now, and my knees felt weak.

Dully, as if from far away, I heard the men speaking to each other. "She's like him."

"We could use her. Wicked could use her."

"No. We came here for the boy. Not for her."

"She could take his place."

"We have enough female Candidates."

" Think of the killzone patterns we could create. Things we had never dreamed of. The estimated time to solve the maze is two years. She doesn't have to survive that long. Throw her in with Group A, if only for six months or so."

"No."

"It's a great opportunity. Think about it, Kevin. Use her as a variable."

"She's too old, if anything. She looks around fifteen. Too old to perform the surgery."

"Let's take this to Ava. Let her decide."

My head was spinning. What the hell were they talking about? Killzones, wicked, a maze, a surgery? I sunk to the ground, eyes squeezed tight and head buried in my hands. The look on the kid's face as he died burned behind my eyelids. I realized with a shock that I didn't even know his name. I had gotten him killed and I didn't know his name.

Footsteps echoed off the walls, muffled by the wet squelch of blood. I felt a hand grasp my arm, pull me to my feet roughly. Stumble forward. Right myself. Whirl around and punch the man holding me. Watch him reel back, holding his nose. Then others restrain me, yank my arms behind my back. A cry of pain. Forced to my knees. I struggled up, only to be hit in the head with something. Hard. Stumble forward again. Can't right myself. Falling, falling, falling. Sink down, eyes squeezed shut. Tears finally slid down my cheeks, whether from the pounding in my head or the cold fear clenching at my stomach I would never know.

I heard a strangled cry, cut off too abruptly. There was a thunk as something heavy landed next to me. I opened my eyes to see what it was. It was the man who had shot the kid, his lifeless blue eyes staring up at me. I screamed, scrambling to my feet and tripping over myself to get away from him.

I felt hands on my arms, holding me down, preventing my from backing up further. Without thinking, I drove my elbow back. The hands released me, and I turned around, the movement sending the world spinning. Jorge was doubled over, hands on his stomach.

"Damn, Rose, watch where you hit." He laughed, straightening up and wincing. "Are you alright, _chica_?"

I didn't exactly know how to answer that question. I had just witnessed a murder, had been assaulted and my head felt twice its size. Instead, I asked, "Where did the other three go?"

"Ran off like frightened children. Serves them right. Are you hurt?"

" My head…" I put a hand on the back of my head, and was surprised to find it stained with red as I pulled it away.

"Let me see." Jorge said, stepping close. I bent my neck, looking at my shoes. I felt him pick through my hair, causing me to gasp in pain as his fingers brushed the spot the man had hit me. "_Los sentimos,_ Rose." He stepped back and I looked up at him. "Looks like a shallow cut. Should heal in a few days. As for your head…"

I nodded, and suddenly I was crying again. I collapsed on the ground, sobs wracking my body. I couldn't take it anymore. Pulling my knees up, I rested my head on them, feeling like a helpless child. I was stronger than this. I could deal with anything, I told myself, but to no avail. The tears flowed, and I was powerless to stop them.

I felt more than saw Jorge sit down next to me, wrapping his arms around me and letting me rest my head on his shoulder. He lay his head on top of mine, letting me cry. I took comfort in his soothing presence, closing my eyes and listening to the steady beating of both our hearts. I slowly felt myself drifting into the pleasant numb state of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I slowly became aware of the sun warming my face, staining the back of my eyelids red. Stretching lazily, I opened my eyes, feeling refreshed and new. With a start, I realized I was back in my room, lying in my bed, the sheets tucked securely around me. Panicked, I wondered how I had gotten here. Then the memories from last night flooded my mind.

I closed my eyes, laying my head in my hands. The gunshot echoed in my ears, the wet slap of footsteps through blood. Lifeless blue eyes. I shook my head to clear it, gasping when a sharp pain seared through my skull.

"I was just coming to ask how your head was. I suppose that was my answer." I whirled around, wincing as I did so, to find Jorge standing in my doorway, leaning against the door frame. "How do you feel, _chica_?"

I took a moment to consider. The only thing that really physically hurt was my head, but despite feeling rested, I felt emotionally empty. Shell-shocked. I shrugged. "I guess I feel ok. I'm not hurt, but… did you carry me all the way home?"

Jorge nodded. "You had been through a lot. I thought it would be best to let you sleep off the shock." He walked over to sit on the bed beside me. "I wanted to ask you about what happened, but if you do not feel up to it…"

"No, no it's fine. Ask away. I need to talk about it anyway."

He took a second to get his thoughts in order, then said, "Do you know why those men went after you?"

"They only went after me because I was with the boy. They mentioned something about the kid being useful for something."

"So they were not after you?"

"I don't think so. At least, I hope not."

"Me as well, _chica._ Come. Breakfast is ready." He smiled and extended his hand to help me up. I took it, and followed him to the kitchen. Felicia was already up, a can of the sausage in her hand.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." She said, not taking her eyes off the can. "Jorge told me what happened. How do you feel?" Her brown eyes flicked up to mine.

I shrugged. "As good as you can feel after being attacked, I guess."

She nodded, and held the can out to me. I took it, fishing a spoon out of the cluttered drawers, and began eating.

"It doesn't taste so good the second time around, huh?" Felicia asked as I winced, the food hitting my tongue.

"Be quiet," Jorge said, mock hurt on his dark features. "I worked hard on that."

"I know," Felicia answered, "You must have struggled with the can for twenty minutes."

"Yes, well, if we had a can opener, I wouldn't have to."

"If the world wasn't destroyed, _estupido,_ we'd get a can opener." Jorge opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Look, I'm going out to get water. There's a well a couple of hours out and a lot of others are going. I'll be back later, okay?"

I nodded, tossing the spoon in the sink and leaving the can on the counter for some other poor soul to eat. Plopping down on the couch, I heard the door open and shut as Felicia left. Jorge vaulted over the back of the couch, sliding down next to me. "What shall we do today,_ chica?_"He asked, folding his hands behind his head and stretching out.

"I dunno, you look pretty comfortable."

"Yes. I might just go to sleep." He closed his eyes.

Grinning, I smacked him in the face with a pillow. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

"Oh, this is war, Rosa!" he grabbed his own pillow, and before I could react, hit me in the side of the head. I sat, stunned, as he jumped off of the couch, careful to stay out of my reach. I took the third and last pillow from the couch and stood up, following him around the living room as he practically ran to stay away from me. I laughed.

"Are you afraid of a _girl,_ Jorge?"

"Only when she has bed head like you, Medusa."

"Hey, now, that's a low blow."

"I know. Just like insulting your singing like a tone-deaf snake in the shower would be."

"Now you're just begging for death."

I rushed at him, but he jumped out of the way, hitting me in the side with his pillow in the process. I swiped at him, but he ducked, grinning. "You can't hit me, _chica_." I lunged again, but only managed to hit the air where he had been standing a second before, getting swatted in the side in the process. This carried on for some time. It could have minutes, though it felt more like hours. We both ended up on the couch, exhausted from our battle with pillows.

I sunk down to rest my head on Jorge's arm. "I'm tired," I mumbled almost intelligibly.

"Me too. Though not as much as you, I would think. You still haven't caught up on your sleep from your midnight fiasco."

"You mean the one where I almost died."

"Yeah, that one."

"Ahh, I see."

He laughed, and I heard him sigh. His breathing deepened, and I guessed he was asleep. I closed my eyes as well, sinking into that welcome oblivion.

I sat bolt upright, breathing hard. It was dark, the house silent. I felt Jorge stir beside me, but he didn't wake up. Something was wrong. Something was really, really, wrong. I slid off the couch, taking care not to wake Jorge. My bare feet touched the floor, and despite the heat of the desert, I shivered.

Thunder boomed outside, though it was a long way away. Rain pattered on the roof heavily, making it nearly impossible to hear even my own breathing. I tiptoed to the kitchen, putting my hands in front of me so I didn't smack into anything. Knowing me, it would.

My hands ran into something. My heart pounded in my chest and I could taste the metallic taste of fear on my tongue. What the he- oh, it was the counter. I ran my hand along the edge, moving through the kitchen relatively quickly for not being able to see.

Thunder boomed, much closer this time. I jumped, leaping about a foot in the air. The unsettling feeling hadn't left, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was nothing. The world was finally coming into focus, my vision adjusting.

Suddenly I felt a cold tabbing pain in my upper arm. I cried out before someone clamped a hand over my mouth. I screamed, though it didn't do much good against the gloved hand. Shoving my elbow back, I heard a grunt and felt it connect with soft flesh. I tore away, smashing into the counter in the process. I fell to the ground.

The dark world spun before my eyes. Dark spots swirled across my vision. My eyelids fluttered, and my limbs felt like lead bricks. Dimly, I heard Jorge's voice yelling in my ear, much too loud. "Rose!" he yelled. As I looked at him, his face swam out of focus. I blinked, but it didn't help. "Rose, what happened? What's wrong?" He picked up an empty syringe, looked at my arm, where I could dully feel a single drop of blood leaking down. "Joder," I heard him mutter.

"Whhatch the langage," I slurred, lifting my arm to lightly punch him in the shoulder. It didn't work. I only managed to get it half an inch off the ground before I toppled over. I fought the urge to let my eyelids close, though I was losing. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to the blackness was three men in white coats and gas masks forcing Jorge, screaming and fighting, away from me.

**Ooooooooo! Ok I know the story's been a little slow thus far, but I promise we'll get to the really cool characters next chapter. (MINHO!) So please please please reaview! Love you guys!**


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